Chapter Ten - 10. The Cuffs
CHAPTER TEN
The Cuffs
I thought having Taylor as my slave would be great.
And it was great — the day had been fun, and there’d even be moments I straight up forgot he was only there because I forced him to be.
But on the bus ride back, I couldn’t sit still, my skin feeling hot where our elbows touched.
I couldn’t even bear to glance at his profile.
In fact, my stomach turned when I thought about what was going to happen.
This is about power, I reminded myself. Power and base lust. It had nothing to do with emotions or affection.
I repeated it in my mind, over and over, so when the clock hit midnight and he recoiled away from me, I wouldn’t feel upset or hurt.
I mean, not that I’d get hurt. I didn’t care. I didn’t care.
When we returned to Valentina Hall, the lobby and hallways were totally empty, probably because everyone was out, partying. Our footsteps seemed to echo as we made our way down the hallway, and when we entered room 407, the door shut behind us with a loud thud.
“I should shower,” Taylor said.
“Me too. You go first,” I added hastily. If I went second, I wouldn’t feel rushed, and I needed the extra time to…prepare.
While Taylor showered, I tidied up my room and smoothed down the bed covers. I took the lube and condoms out of their drawer and placed them on my bedside table, but that felt too weird, so I shoved them back in the drawer. I set down the paper bag from the adult store casually on the desk.
“I’m done,” Taylor said, appearing in my doorway, making me jump. His hair was wet, and he’d tied a white towel low on his hips.
“Oh. Cool.” I gestured for him to come in. “You gonna get changed, or…?”
He sat on the edge of my bed like he owned it. “Is there any point?”
My cheeks went warm. What the hell? I was the one who was supposed to be in charge. “Uh. No. Guess not.” I grabbed a towel and hurried to the bathroom. “Won’t be long.”
In the shower I washed and prepped, but I also rested my hands against the tiles and stared at the water gurgling down the drain. My heart was beating faster. What was going on?
Get it together, Archie.
When I returned to my bedroom, Taylor was in exactly the same place I’d left him, except he’d flopped back, so he was looking up at the ceiling, back flat against the bed. It made his towel indecently short. I stared at the hair dusting his legs, the definition of his quads…
Gym goals. That’s what I wanted to look like. That’s why I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
No.
I couldn’t lie to myself. I wasn’t looking at him, wanting to be him. I just wanted him.
I walked forward, and the sound of my footsteps seemed to tear Taylor out of whatever daydream he was in. He propped himself up on his elbows, thighs still obscenely on display.
“Hey.” His eyes flittered once down my torso, then back up to meet my gaze. “I’ve been thinking.”
My stomach dropped. He was going to safeword, wasn’t he? Well, I couldn’t stop him. Not that I’d want to, if he didn’t want to do this. But it would be depressing. And it’d mean I’d have to get off alone, using my hands, and my dildo, which was perfectly adequate, but —
“What is it?” I asked, trying for neutral.
He didn’t respond for a second, then gestured at the bed. “Why don’t you come sit down?”
He was going to let me down easy. That was even worse than changed my mind, I don’t want to fuck you, I especially don’t want to be your slave while doing it because I’ve got pride and dignity and an actual backbone.
I sat down beside him.
“So.” Taylor’s voice was calm and even like when he’d presented his valedictorian speech at graduation, and I’d been standing off to the side, seething. “We agreed that this thing ends tonight but maybe we can do this on the regular.”
“What?” I asked. “Hanging out?”
“I guess that too,” Taylor said, and I managed not to burst out laughing as he strained to be polite.
“I only made us do all that to torture you,” I explained.
“I figured. There’s no way you’d win me a prize at an arcade without an ulterior motive.”
“Maybe I’m a really nice person.”
“And all the money you spent on me…”
“I couldn’t expect you to pay!” I said, outraged at the idea. “Although, you did shout dinner. I can pay you back.”
He ignored that. “Now you’re expecting me to put out.”
“I’m not — don’t you want to?”
He met my gaze. “Yeah. I want to.”
I leaned forward and kissed him. His mouth was warm under my lips.
“Sorry,” I said, pulling back. “You were saying?”
“Uh…” He was staring at my mouth. “Forget it. We’ll talk later.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but I was quickly distracted by Taylor’s lips on mine, his hand gently cupping my jaw and sliding down my neck.
His palm was so warm. When we pulled away for breath, I shifted my hips, trying to ease the discomfort of my erection pressing into my towel.
Taylor looked down and let out a soft oh and slid the towel off.
My cock, once free, bobbed up in the air, and my skin went hot with embarrassment.
Taylor pushed himself off the bed and stood between my spread legs, hands on my thighs. He trailed them up, precariously close to my dick, then past my hip bones and up my sides, until they landed on my chest, thumbs grazing over my nipples, making them pebble.
“Hang on,” I said, grabbing his arm. I wasn’t that far gone. Yet. “I’m the boss here.” I pushed him back and he reluctantly let go. “Get the bag.” I nodded at the desk.
Taylor followed my gaze and his shoulders dropped. “Don’t.”
I smiled.
He muttered something, too low for me to catch, then walked over to the desk and brought the paper bag over to me, tossing it a bit rougher than expected for someone who was supposed to be my slave. Nonetheless, I held my tongue and pulled out the plastic packaging for the French maid costume.
“I think,” Taylor said, watching me peel open the plastic, “you’re meant to wash it before using it.”
“We don’t have time. It’ll be fine.”
“If I get a rash all over my body, it’s your fault.”
“I’ll nurse you back to health,” I promised, pulling out the flimsy polyester costume. “Here.”
Taylor took it. “It’s not going to fit.”
“You can try.”
“Are you seriously—”
“You made me wear that collar,” I interrupted. “It’s only fair.”
He glared at me, then dropped his towel, letting it pool at his feet.
I inhaled sharply at the sight of his rigid cock, thick and pink, but I didn’t get to stare for long, because he was stepping into the dress.
It was short and gaped around his chest, where it was meant to be filled out with a woman’s breasts, and it was clearly tight around his torso, but other than that, the elastic seemed to work well.
“Is it uncomfortable?” I asked.
“Extremely.”
He tried tugging the hem down, so it covered more than one inch of his thighs. It didn’t work. I grinned and when he saw me, his cheeks reddened.
“Satisfied?” he demanded.
I nodded. “Get on your knees.”
His eyes flashed, but he didn’t argue, slowly lowering himself onto the carpet. Once he was on the floor, I scooted closer, and placed a hand on his head, touching his soft hair. He swallowed, throat spasming. He looked like he was having some internal crisis.
“You can safe word,” I reminded him.
He glared at me. “Fuck off.” His gaze settled on my cock. “We’re just getting started.”
“You know what to do,” I said. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“You need to spell it out.”
I frowned at him. I mean, wasn’t it obvious? But something about the colour rising up his neck made me do as he said.
“Suck my cock.”
I expected him to put up a fight or to at least waste some time waffling around. Instead, Taylor placed a hand on my thighs, fingers digging into the flesh, and lowered his head, taking my erection into his mouth in one smooth motion.
In my head, I was sophisticated and unaffected. In reality, I moaned immediately, my legs twitching wider apart. I curled my hands into his hair, then worried I was hurting him, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he let out a soft noise.
“You— you look really handsome like this,” I managed. “Your lips stretched around my cock.”
He took his mouth off me and I almost whined. “Shut the fuck up,” he said, then put his mouth back on me and started bobbing his head and suddenly the only thing I could think was don’t come, don’t come, don’t come.
“You’re good at this,” I said, too gone to care that my voice sounded broken. “How are you so good at everything? It’s not fucking — mmph — f-fair.”
He raised his head, only leaving the tip in his mouth, tongue flat against the sensitive underside. He looked up at me through his coal black eyelashes, eyes dark, and I had to yank him off me.
“Shit. Shit.” I breathed deeply, trying to catch my breath. “I almost — shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Taylor said, licking the spit off his lips and failing to suppress his stupid fucking smirk.
“If I came, that’d put an end to this.” I gestured vaguely.
“I could make you hard again.”
He probably could. I wasn’t going to admit that, though.
“Get on the bed,” I said, trying to sound commanding, and failing, since I was still out of breath.
He stood, then pulled at his costume. “Can I take this thing off? It’s so fucking tight.”
“No. You look good in it.”
He stretched, curving his back and displaying every defined ridge of his arms. “It limits my range of motion.”
“So?” I gripped the base of my cock, trying to get myself under control.
“So I’ll be able to fuck you better naked.”
I hated the idea of agreeing with him but his logic made sense, and also, I did want him naked again. I wanted to see all of his skin.
“Fine,” I said huffily. “Take it off.”
Taylor pulled the dress off so quickly, it was almost comical, and chucked it into a far corner of the room. I gestured for him to get onto the bed, so he was leaning up against the headboard.
“Great, thank you.” I was pleased with myself for maintaining my manners. “Don’t move.” I dug through the paper bag and pulled out the pair of black fluffy handcuffs, then crawled over to him.
“Wait,” he said, as I placed one cuff around his wrist. “I thought this was for you.”
“For me?” I asked. “Why would it be for me? I’m the one in control.”
“But…” he trailed off as I looped the chain through the headboard’s rail, and cuffed his other hand, so both of his wrists were pinned up behind him. “My range of motion…”
He looked so despondent, I couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s okay.” I kissed him on the nose. “I’ll make it up to you.”
His expression was a strange mix of confused and disappointed as he watched me grab a condom.
When I touched his cock, it twitched underneath my fingers, but he didn’t say anything as I rolled the rubber on.
He remained silent as I slicked him up with lube, then straddled him.
It was only when I reached behind myself, rubbing fingers against my entrance, when he tried to move, handcuffs jangling loudly.
“Archie.” His gaze dropped to the movement of my hands behind me, then back to my face again. “Wouldn’t it be easier if I was on top?”
He was cute when he tried to be considerate.
“That’s okay. I’ve had a lot of practice riding.”
He clenched his jaw. “I really think —”
“Hush,” I said, pressing a finger against his lips. With my other hand, I gripped his erection, and pushed it against my hole. Slowly, I lowered myself onto it, biting my lip. Taylor’s entire body had tensed, and he jangled the handcuffs some more
“Just need to get used to the stretch,” I said, taking a second to adjust before I bottomed out. I braced a hand against Taylor’s chest, sucking in deep breaths as my body relaxed around him. “Does it feel okay?” I asked.
He didn’t respond, face tight.
I pushed myself up and dropped onto his cock, and that, at least, forced a noise out of him.
It was like muscle memory from all those nights I’d rode that dildo, and soon I increased my pace, bouncing on him, thighs starting to burn, but it didn’t matter, because fuck it felt good, feeling him slam into me, pressing against my prostate and sending shivers through my body.
“I’m good at this, aren’t I?” I asked, pushing hair away from my forehead.
Taylor didn’t say anything, but a dark flush had spread down his neck and across his chest.
I slowed down. “Tell me I’m good at this.” I thought of the last time we had sex, how he’d forced me to admit he was better than my dildo.
“Jesus fucking Christ Archie,” he said, shaking his cuffs as he tried to sit up and thrust his hips, fucking into me. I pressed my weight into him, pinning his pelvis to the mattress.
“Tell me I’m good at riding you,” I said, grazing a finger over his jaw.
“You’re good at riding me,” he replied mechanically.
I brought my finger up to his mouth, tracing the outline of his lips. “Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had.”
“You’re the best I’ve ever had,” he said, voice a mix between a snarl and a cry. “Uncuff me. Now.”
I pushed my thumb into his mouth and he let me. “Why should I do that?”
“Because I’d give it to you good.” His voice was muffled. “Just get me out of these fucking things.” He shoved his wrists so hard against the cuffs, I winced on his behalf.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” I said as I took my thumb out of his mouth.
“I don’t care. Just free me. Please.” He tried and failed to raise his hips again.
“You’re killing me. This isn’t a competition.
It doesn’t matter who comes first, so why the hell are you doing this to me?
Just — please — let — me — go.” His voice sounded weak, like he was about to break down in tears.
I smirked. “You’re so pathetic.”
Through his pained expression, he managed a glare. “You’re a sadist.”
“Maybe.” I ground against him.
“Let me go. Let me go.” Something changed in his face. “Please. Please. Please, please, please.”
“Let me think,” I said, tapping my chin.
“No.” I pushed myself up and sank down onto his length, my eyes fluttering closed momentarily at the pressure and pleasure.
“I like you like this, under me, at my mercy. You belong to me, after all. I’m allowed to do whatever I want with you.
” I picked up my pace and it might’ve been my imagination, but I swore Taylor’s eyes looked shinier than usual, like tears were forming.
“You’re so hot. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand anything about you.
Your voice. Your height. Your fucking cooking. I can’t stand any of it.”
Taylor shook his head like he didn’t want to listen, his eyes squeezed shut.
“But you know what? I love you like this. I know you feel the same way. Say it. Say you love me like this.” I was babbling crazy stuff now, but I didn’t care. “Tell me you love me —”